


I Had a Plan Until I Saw Your Face

by daydreamorbust



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ava can't tell, Ava is a cop, Ava just needs love, Cop AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Sara Lance is a flirt, They're both messes that need help, Vigilante, some angst but it's for the plot, that is until she sees Sara shirtless, then she's gay awkward and a mess, who is gay and awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamorbust/pseuds/daydreamorbust
Summary: Ava Sharpe had a plan for her life. She was going to grow and train and fight the evil people of the world. The people that let her have hope when there was none. The people that let her believe that they were coming when she was really all alone reading her tear-stained comic book over and over. She wanted revenge. Ava Sharpe had a plan.Or at least she did until she met Sara Lance.





	1. She was Blind

Ava was fresh out of the academy. Fresh with big bright eyes and too much optimism for a person living in 2018. But Ava was smart even though people kept telling her that she was just naive. 

She remembered the cruelness of the world every morning before breakfast when she stepped out of the shower and looking in the mirror at the body that hasn’t felt like hers in a long time. The body that was riddled with a crossword of scars and pain that could never be forgotten. Ava Sharp knew a lot about pain, but she also knew a host of repressive coping mechanisms.

So when the day came that Ava got out of bed, put on her uniform, and adorned her police officer hat, she barely blinked when she glanced in the mirror and saw her least favorite wound, the only one that couldn’t be covered, her eyes.

She arrived at the stadium downtown, adjusted her necktie and took a breath before meeting her fate as a brand new protector of the city.

~

The first few weeks on the job were a blur. It was as if Ava was a robot going through the motions of a person who was perfectly normal with a perfectly normal job.

She knew what she needed to do, she needed to take down all the vigilantes that let her have hope when she was still trapped in that house reading the same comic book over and over in the musty attic. The vigilantes that never came for her.

Ava knew what she needed to do, and right now she needed to get Officer Lance a coffee with two sugars.

~

The day Ava was promoted to detective it felt like she finally accomplished something. She smiled with her eyes for the first time in years. The only thing that was off about that day was the shrimp hors-d'oeuvres and the inexplicable feeling of being watched.

The only other interesting thing that happened that day was that Ava discovered that her partner Quincy’s daughter was hot, like really hot. And that whenever Ava was in a 5 feet vicinity of her, she turned into a bumbling gay mess.

The only other time this had happened was the 8th grade when Melissa Clarke held her hand during a two-hour assembly.

Ava learned her name was Sara and that she had great muscle definition and a tendency to stare very intensely into her eyes for seconds at a time that felt like years.

 

~

The second time she saw Sara Lance was when she was sitting at her desk putting together webs of information on Star City’s resident vigilantes, the black canary and the green arrow among other wannabe teenagers in Halloween costumes.

They seemed to be at least decent at their jobs seeing as the only information she currently has on them is vague at best. The only info on the black canary is her extensive fighting skills and a couple vague sketches from eyewitnesses.

From what Ava can tell, through rigorous research, the black canary is very hot and Ava is still very very gay. Which becomes very inconvenient when hunting down her self-proclaimed nemesis. This city already has lots of problems without adding crime fighting blondes in latex suits to the mix.

Which, as Ava likes to mention to herself regularly, is not a very efficient costume, skin-tight that shows off cleavage, for fighting crimes. 

After two hours of staring at sketches, Ava looked up at someone clearing their throat.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the blond woman in the leather jacket said while looking at Ava’s nameplate, “Detective.”

“To you as well, Miss Lance,”

“Oooo, Eloquent and adorable, those a rare,” Sara said while looking Ava up and down, “and in uniform.”

Ava blushed and immediately looked at her perfectly polished shoes. Heat overtook her face as she glanced up only to see Sara’s smirking lips. Very nice smirking lips.

“Did you need something?” Ava said while tilting her head towards her half foot pile of paperwork.

“Just stopping by, saying hi, thought I’d check how my favorite detective was doing,” Sara looked over at her dad then back at Ava, “Speaking of which, how are you doing?”

“Was that a pickup line, Miss Lance?” Ava chuckled.

“That depends, did it work?”

In all honesty, it did, it totally did, and Ava thanked whatever god there was that Sara was waved over by her dad at that moment because she wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence for at least an hour after that.

~

Nothing felt important after that. Ava began questioning what she was doing and if it was even worth it. 

That was up until the robin hood vigilante tried to kill the mayor and Ava was put on the task force set on taking him down.

This should have been a dream, an ethereal miracle gifted only to the divine, instead, it felt like a cage. A rope around Ava’s neck forcing her to complete the one thing she had ever wanted. 

But now it wasn’t the only thing, no, Ava wanted something normal and real and tangible and she had set her sights on Sara Lance, Star City’s own rebel child.

And that became complicated when Ava spent her time browsing articles on the mysterious woman and waiting for her to show up again rather than completing paperwork for the new task force.

The task force was basically desk duty, the only leads they have are the color green and a single custom made arrow along with a bunch of vague sketches. 

Ava thought that front of the line crime fighting would be more interesting than this.

The only interesting part of her days became the quickfire calls about the black canary that made her sprint to the van and put on her gear in under three minutes just to get there and find a pile of beaten up criminals with the occasional note that said ‘you’re welcome’. 

Ava sometimes felt someone watching her on those calls, she just assumed another member of the task force caught a crush that would inevitably lead to nowhere. 

~

Ava was on a call. The department had gotten a tip that the black canary was taking down an underground smuggling ring that the SCPD had only heard rumors about.

They arrived at an abandoned warehouse that had tens of cars parked outside and a badass motorcycle. Ava took a second to imagine Sara on a motorcycle and filed that picture away to dream about later.

Her team filed into the building in standard formation. Ava was taking point so she stepped ahead with soft steps to see the canary vigilante in all her glory, currently taking on a hoard of criminals. Ava jumped over a crate and used her eight years of martial arts to knock four people unconscious before coming face to face with the masked fighter.

“Behind you,” she said quickly before throwing a knife right above Ava’s right shoulder, causing her to turn around a punch the dickhead that was two feet from stabbing her in the kidney.

When she turned back around, the black canary was standing in the eye of the mafia body hurricane with a smirk on her face, she looked Ava in the eyes.

“Might want to cover your ears, cutie,” before opening her mouth again releasing a piercing screech, causing her entire team to drop to their knees into the fetal position. The canary laughed a beautiful laugh. “Better luck next time, Detective,” she said before saluting at the detective and scaling the walls until she disappeared through the skylight. 

Ava walked out of the dirty warehouse with a small smile on her face and an undeniable excitement for her next call. What she didn’t see when she walked out was Sara Lance standing on the roof opposite with a pair of binoculars and a similar smile to that of her favorite detective.


	2. She was There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava comes face to face with the black canary and her unfamiliar feelings.

Ava liked oxygen like any other living human being, but when she was at the gym training for her annual physical, she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t care less.

That’s because Sara Lance was on the salmon ladder and her abs, oh her very nice defined abs. And Ava couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were frozen, locked. Stuck staring at Sara fucking Lance and her stupid, really hot, body when she was supposed to be running.

So she did what any logical gay mess would do, she shut down, and that didn’t work out well since she was on a treadmill from 2004. Ava fell on her ass. And like the beautiful angel that she was, Sara came over to check on her.

She kneeled down in front, brushed hair out of Ava’s face and with soft eyes, she breathed out, “You okay, Detective?”

“Yeah fine, totally fine, don’t know what happened there,” Ava blurted out while jumping to her feet and grabbing her stuff. She walked towards the front desk without looking back, “You might want to replace that treadmill, something’s wrong with it,” ‘or something is really wrong with me’ she thought after.

‘Really really wrong.’ She took one glance back at Sara continuing her workout, blushed, and left.

She’s noticing more and more that she’s the one that's leaving.

~

Ava realized by the fifth day that she couldn’t get her mind off of Sara Lance. She tried everything to make the images of her smile and body from flashing across her mind.

She went to the gym twice a day, a different one from before, she transferred her membership to the one across town. She took up all her free time with books and tea and paperwork catch up. She couldn’t make it stop.

It was like Sara was a drug and she was addicted, it felt cliche to even think of something so sappy. She was supposed to be a weapon set on taking down the evils of the world, not some lovesick puppy chasing her dreams. She was supposed to be strong.

~

She got another call, the excitement had died down by then. She rushed to the van without even thinking about it. Everything felt numb, it had been for several days. Ava refuses to admit that it was because she hadn’t seen Sara in over a week.

They arrived at another warehouse, a drug ring gone rotten. Ava rushed in with her team expecting to see all-out war, except it was quiet.

She motioned for her team to check the perimeter and she walked forward into the silence. She was expecting to find an ambush, maybe a pile of criminals, what she didn’t expect was to find the black canary writhing in agony on the ground.

What she didn’t expect was the feeling of worry that shot through her body at the sight of the woman, the feeling of undeniable pain shooting right behind her eyes. She wanted it to stop.

So she dropped to her knees and scanned the woman’s body top to bottom, totally not lingering on her ass. There was an arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

And what happened next was very simple, Ava’s mind shut down like it had many times before, but a small image was still lingering around the corners, and it was Sara’s smile. She had never seen this much blood before that wasn’t her own. She wanted to pass out.

But no, she couldn’t, people were relying on her, as they so often did these days. The detective shook her head and stripped off her jacket. It was soaked after just a few moments of contact with the vigilantes wound.

She started to stir now, blinking for seconds at a time before putting her head back on the cold cement. Ava wanted to do the same, but the problem kept occurring, people were relying on her. So she did what she does and saves the day. 

She taps the vigilante on the cheek and whispers, “You need to get out of here. They’ll want to take you.”

The vigilante finally opens her eyes and a piercing blue invades Ava’s vision. The detective’s breath hitches for a moment before standing up, bringing the latex-clad body with her.

“Go. Now.”

The canary stumbles before latching her hand onto her injured shoulder and saluting with her bloody hand with a gentle smile, “Until next time, Detective,” then under her breath, “Thank you, Ava.”

Ava knew this was going to require a lot of lies and paperwork, but with a final glance back from the vigilante Ava discovered that she didn’t care. It was worth it, (to see her smile).


	3. She was Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ava was a child, she loved history.
> 
> The only kind she didn't like was her own.
> 
>  
> 
> (This gets angsty at the end,   
> trigger warning for verbal abuse)

Ava found herself thinking about Sara Lance more than before, which is a little hard to believe herself. And then came the obvious problem of the growing fondness between her and the black canary. And then the guilt of having a fondness for her and the black canary.

She felt bad. It was like she was hypothetically mind-cheating on who was supposed to be the one romantic obsession that someone grew into two without her so much as noticing until now.

She wanted to see the battered bandit. She wanted to see her eyes again and check her body out, totally platonically check her out, only for medical purposes of course, as Ava so diligently reminded herself. 

She wanted to go on another call.

Ask and thou shall receive (or something ominous like that).

~

A speedy tip got called in about two minutes later about a fight breaking out in the city park. So Ava did her dues. She got her gear on, loaded her gun, chugged her coffee. She was in the van quickly with her heart racing, completely caused by the sprint to the van, it had absolutely nothing to do with the hope of seeing the vigilante again, she so diligently reminded herself. She’s been doing that a lot more often.

When the van shuttered to a stop, Ava jumped out expecting to see the gorgeous-- nope no, ruthless-- vigilante that had become a frequent visitor of her thoughts. She silently patted herself on the back for her internal spell correct. She was learning.

The park was empty, deserted very strangely for a Friday night. Ava forgot.

She spent so much of her brain power making sure that no overly romantic thoughts got past her firewall of gray matter. She forgot. She forgot all of her training, the years spent getting tossed across the room like a rag doll, sore for weeks at a time. She forgot that she was on the job and in a bad position and in a situation that could end with her in a lifelong relationship with a casket.

She wanted to blame the blonde hair that took over her very sparse personal thoughts, she so very wanted to. But as much as she wants otherwise, Ava was logical, and she knew it was only her unhealthy coping mechanisms of excessive repression that caused her to shut down like this.

It was her unhealthy coping mechanisms that caused her to miss the small circle of reflecting light through the windows, to miss the light footsteps coming from the alleyway.

It was an ambush.

Floods of kevlar overtook the abandoned walkways and chemically treated grass. It was an ambush and Ava mentally beat herself for opening her mind to feelings and thoughts. She was supposed to be a soldier, indestructible.

~

Ava’s team was a couple minutes from being surrounded. 

The guilt was already consuming her. These people put their lives in her hands, and she failed them. She seemed to be doing that a lot more often these days.

She failed them and she started to raise her eyes to the clouds and ask God what she did in a past life to deserve this torture. That’s when she saw her.

The Black Canary in all her glory. Ava would’ve gaped but she didn’t want to give away the vigilantes position. She was on a fire escape behind the commotion strapping darts and daggers to her dark suit. Even from a distance, Ava noticed the precision of her movements.

Then she mentally beat herself up again for being lost in her thoughts.

Into her comms, she ordered, “Defensive position, Jameson, Ricardo call for immediate backup.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a scrambled voice replied on Ava’s private comm line.

Ava sighed internally before muting the line for the rest of her unit, “and why would that be, oh wise vigilante?”

“Because I have a plan,” was all Ava heard before all of her vision was engulfed in fog. She reacted quickly as she was taught, gun pointed, defensive stance, no hesitation. She was ready. She was prepared (this time).

What she wasn’t prepared for was the cold metal barrel pressed to her neck.

What she wasn’t prepared for was the cold metal betrayal.

~

She dropped her gun and ran through all of the scenarios that caused her to end up in exactly this moment. She played a quick game with herself, guessing which member of the unit had flipped and how long it would take for the rest of the team to realize they needed to apprehend the scumbag.

“Drop the gun, Avelyn,” and at that moment, she wanted them to pull the trigger. She wanted this recurring nightmare to end. If only it was a nightmare.

~

She closed her eyes and remembered the long since repressed nightmares from her childhood, and how much worse her reality was. She used to like reading and science and history. She used to like things before all the pain and cruelty overcame her individuality.

She remembers the worst one. She remembers her breaking point. She walked home from school, as she usually did, took all the back alleyways, did at least two laps around the city before crawling through the broken fence to the cement stairs that led into the ground of her dungeon. 

She thought her father was gone, as he usually was at this time of day, dealing with business affairs, probably at a bar. But he was there this time, on her bed with her only treasured possession in his scarred palms. It was her comic book. Her comic book that was worn down from all the times she turned the page. Her comic book that was wrinkled from tear stains and soiled from countless notes in the margins.

He looked up and she expected to see the normal mixture of haze and disappointment in his eyes, but all she could see was fire. Red hot and glaring right back at her.

He never pays attention to her, she wanted it to go back.

He never lost eye contact, ripping page after page into pieces.

Ava couldn’t look away, but the tears distorted her vision and she had to blink them away. Blink. Blink. Blink.

She missed it.

She missed it already, the soft pages, the unassuming smell of oranges.

She ran to her first love and tried to piece it back together along with her heart. 

“You know how I feel about those criminals, Avelyn. I just don’t understand how you don’t see it, I’m the good guy, I’m stopping evil.” she nodded into his hand that had found its way around her neck holding her eyes to meet his. She hated it. She knew what he did, who he was, she put her ear up to the vents that connected to his office so many nights.

She knew he wasn’t the good guy ever since her first-grade teacher gave her a hug at the end of the term. Good guys don’t let their children believe they’re worthless. Good guys don’t let children believe they’re worthless.


	4. She was Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava's tries to run from her fears, but you can't run away from your own mind.
> 
> (more angst, but it gets resolved more next chapter)

“Drop the gun, Avelyn,” he sighed just as she remembered (feared). “Now you know how I feel about violence.”

“Of course, father,” she says sweetly, nails digging into her palm like it’s an anchor and she’s going to float away, “completely fine as long as you pay someone else to do it.”

She felt before she heard the safety being switched off.

“Now Avelyn, what did I teach you about sass.”

She wanted to throw back a witty retort, she couldn’t. She was petrified. Eyes closed, breathing paused, the only thing tethering her to the earth was the cold press of metal to her neck. 

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The world shifted.

And she floated away.

~

She was underwater, she couldn’t breathe. The more the tried, the more water soaked into her body weighing it down till her feet then head hit nothingness and she was nothingness.  
She was weightless.

And then she fell.

~

She felt a pounding at the back of her head. When she tried to open her eyes, it was still displaying static images meshed together. She wanted to go back to the water where she didn’t have to feel anything. 

She wanted to not feel anything, instead, she felt everything. Not so much as felt but received, terabytes of information all entering her mind at the same time. The searing pain near her hip, the pounding behind her eyes leading all the way to her skull, the pebbles digging into her ribcage with every breath.

She thought she would feel overwhelmed, or at least be focused on something more than the warmth surrounding her hand and under her head that was grounding her. She didn’t fall (someone else did). She felt her consciousness start to fade and she was gone.

~

She moved her hand to the left where she leaves her phone alarm, she hit metal instead.

That woke her right up. Her eyes shot open and a hand clutched at her hip where she kept her knife. She felt nothing but a searing pain shooting up her body and a heartbeat thumping loud and fast in her throat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on Ava, you’re okay,” then suddenly she felt the warmth surrounding her hand again, her heart calmed without her even asking, she wanted it to stop feeling so nice.

Ava tried to speak, to ask where the hell she was or something more intelligible, but all that came out was scratchy cough after cough.

“Shit, shit, okay water,” she heard mumbled to her left. Then there was water seeping into her socks. “Shit, sorry bad idea.”

At this Ava raised her head and laughed, laughed of all things. The skilled fighter had spilled a pitcher of water over her entire body and was now shivering like a wet cat. “This is what I get for trying to be the hero,” she cursed and tried to run her hands through her hair. The wig fell off and the vigilante jumped when it hit the floor. So much for the skilled ruthless fighter, Ava thought.

She laughed and Ava was mesmerized by the sound, she felt the familiar pressure of her heartstrings being pulled tight. And again she couldn’t breathe, but for a completely different reason.

~

And then she saw it. It was the freckles first. Then the smirk and the chin dimple.

It was the piercing blue eyes that made her breath catch, as it did before.

So she did what Ava does, she left.

~

She heard someone calling her name. She didn’t stop. 

She didn’t ever want to stop.

Running faster than she ever has, she ran. There was a staircase that she ran up at some point, then through a lot of alleyways, constantly cursing herself for being so stupid. She was supposed to be indestructible, and her heart was breaking.

All the hours spent daydreaming about Sara’s smile and what it would feel like to kiss her smirk off. She’s still thinking about it now, to be honest, but she had never wanted it to stop more than she did at that moment.

She wanted to go back to her teenage years where she would catch a glimpse of a vigilante saving a bus on the news and feel hatred racing through her veins.

She wanted it to go back to the time when she didn’t ask her desk partner Quincy when his daughter would stop by next. He never gave a definitive answer, only a smile and small shakes of the head before walking off.

She wanted time to stop and reverse to the time she didn’t have feelings. Because she learned that feelings hurt. They are daggers in your chest all just waiting to be nudged closer to your heart. 

She remembered an old saying her grandma used to tell her when she ranted about wanting to be a police officer, “Pierce the skin, honey, not the heart,”

And the blood from her shaking heart filled up her chest so suddenly, she collapsed against a building. She wanted to be in Sara’s arms. She hated herself for it.

Crack. Crack. Crack. Her chest caved.

She started sobbing about nothing (about everything). 

She heard her name, again and again, slowly getting louder.

She didn’t process the body inching its way towards her until sturdy arms were wrapped around her shaking form and her head was pressing itself into the vigil-- Sara’s chest. The correction in her mind brought another wave of sadness coursing through her body.

She started mumbling things to herself that she didn’t entirely hear before they left her mouth. The words were nothing that hadn’t been in her mind (and journal) before.

But for the woman currently supporting her whole weight, they were unthinkable.

“Don't say that, Ava. You are the strongest person I have ever met,” she uttered into Ava’s ear after brushing the hair from her forehead. Ava wanted to cry again, but she didn't know if it would ever stop.


	5. She was There Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava has to deal with being seen. Continuation from the last chapter
> 
> (Sorry this took so long, I'm too dysfunctional to write fluff quickly)

“You are the strongest person I have ever met,”

“I don’t want to be strong,” Ava muttered into her chest, “I want to be free.”

“Me too, Ava,” Sara said while resting her chin on Ava’s tangled hair. “Me too.”

~

They continued to sit there, maybe for hours, in the same position, Ava curled into Sara’s chest, Sara’s chin resting on her head. 

“We can be free for this moment,” Sara said adjusting her head. After a few more moments, she continued, “want to go get milkshakes?”

Ava chuckled and the vibrations rattled through Sara’s rib-cage making her laugh boldly. It died down as it always does. “I’m a mess,” Ava sighed.

“You’re a beautiful mess.”

Minutes passed before Ava started untangling herself from the relaxed form that was cradling her. “Where are you headed?” Sara said as Ava stood swaying slightly on her feet in front of her.

“Oh, well I never could pass up a milkshake,” Ava offered her hand, and the warmth surrounded it once more.

~

Ava looked at her feet every few seconds to make sure they were still on the ground. She still felt like she was floating.

They walked back their steps and began returning to the building where Ava woke up. Sara mentioned wanting to check her stitches, at this Ava promptly looked down at a shirt that wasn’t hers and lifted it to reveal her battered torso. Along with her collection of scars, there were new bruises and a bandage with a spot of blood in the middle of it.

“Did I get stabbed?”

“No, just a little shot,”

“Needles don’t need those big of bandages.”  
“No Ava, you got shot shot, like gun gun, bang bang shot.” At this Ava’s eyes widened and darted up to gawk at Sara. Sara flashed finger guns at her and the battered detective started chuckling again. 

“I feel like that’s something I would notice,” she knew what would happen once the words left her lips. Ava’s mind started running again, ‘maybe I would have noticed the hole in my body if I wasn’t so easily blinded by things like her laugh’, ‘maybe if I was an actual detective I would have noticed sooner that my romantic obsession and target were the same person.’

Sara’s open palms turned to fists, “What with all your other injuries and being kidnapped by a notorious assassin, I wouldn’t think it’d be your highest priority,” she finished with a huff of frustration and a hand sweeping through her damp hair. “Maybe if I’d actually dropped you off at a hospital, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right about now.”

“I also would be wildly confused and in need of therapy.”

“You’re like that now, what’s the difference?”

“The difference is I wouldn’t be here with you.” she knew that, but her thoughts kept speeding ‘and I wouldn’t be thinking about all the mistakes in my life that led me to become this incompetent detective. I’m supposed to detect things.’ “Some sedatives might be nice though.”

The difference was that she could have been unconscious instead of awake and aware of her heart being squeezed with every exhale.

~

When they arrived at the warehouse, Sara went for medical supplies and Ava made a b-line for what she assumed to be the liquor cabinet. She could still feel her mind vibrating with self-hatred and she learned long ago that being sober did nothing to help make it stop. 

So she took a dark colored bottle and without so much as a glass, started pouring it directly down her throat. She wanted to forget the aching sobs that wracked her body less than an hour ago. 

She lowered the bottled and saw that suffocating blue staring back at her.

“Found those sedatives, huh?” Sara sauntered over to the table she was leaning against and reached behind her. Ava seized her lungs until she saw the ornate glass cup adorning Sara’s hand. 

Sara motioned to the liquor. Her calloused fingers grazed Ava’s as she passed the bottle.  
~

An hour later they found themselves leaning against the cabinet, shoulders firmly pressed together laughing about something they both already forgot. 

Ava started to slump, jolting awake every few seconds until finally her body gave up and her head landed on Sara’s hard shoulder. She was asleep within seconds.

Sara used all of her assassin disciplines to restrain herself from holding Ava and running hands through her hair and kissing her forehead (it took all of it). She settled for leaning her head against Ava’s. It was enough.

And then they slept.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published work, so if you have any feedback it would be appreciated. If you have any questions or just want to talk about those gifs of Jes Macallan shirtless, hit me up @awkwardenby
> 
> New chapters will be posted within a week of each other if motivation keeps me on track.
> 
> Add a comment or kudos if you please.


End file.
